


Entwined

by NotebookishType



Series: Entwined [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: New Republic Era - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Hair Braiding, Hair Brushing, Multi, Pampering, Responsible Han, Teasing, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 04:24:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11176971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotebookishType/pseuds/NotebookishType
Summary: Leia and Luke are running late for a briefing. Han gets them moving.





	Entwined

**Author's Note:**

> As ever, thank you ashes0909 and FestiveFerret for feedback, encouragement, and butt-kicking. You guys rock!

Leia smiled against Luke’s chest, leaning into the feeling of his fingers moving through her hair. Gentle fingertips skated over her scalp with just the right amount of pressure, soothing after so many hours of having her hair pulled tight. His motions pulled a contented sigh from her.

“We should get moving.” The faint rumble of his words sent a tingling thrill down her spine.

She shifted enough to meet his gaze, but made no move to leave the bunk.

Luke gave her his best stern look, which might have been effective if he’d withdrawn his presence in the Force. The unabashed adoration and fresh coil of anticipation she could sense made it clear he had no more interest in leaving than she did.

“We’ll be late for the briefing,” he tried.

She chuckled, raising onto her elbow. “Well, the briefing can't start without me, so I don't think _I_ can be late.”

Luke’s eyes flitted over her, and the corner of his mouth quirked up. “I imagine you’re still expected to show up in a timely manner.”

She scooted up, still pressed against him, and lightly brushed her lips over his mouth, but leaned away when he sought more contact.

“Tease.” There was no edge to his voice, though she could sense a touch of frustration.

“You’re the one that’s so keen on getting to the briefing.” She smiled, sitting up out of his reach.

He drew up his legs, shifting into a seated position. His eyes lingered on her, but he said nothing. He didn't have to say anything. His gaze had her aching, yearning, and considering just how late they could be.

Luke’s eyes left her for a split second, it was another moment before she felt why. Han had come looking for them. He didn't bother knocking. They all knew each other’s access codes.

“What the hell is taking so--” Han stopped mid-stride, glancing between them. “For the love of--I can't leave you two alone for a second!”

Leia chewed her lip and eyed Han, trying to gauge him. He stared at them slack-jawed, eyes dragging over their bodies.

It wouldn't take much to convince Han to join them. A carefully-selected word, a wiggle of her hips, a slide of her hand. But there was an unexpected earnestness to him.

"Hey, Nerf Herder."

Han cleared his throat and began collecting their discarded clothing.

“I’m glad we’re finally over our hang ups, but I don’t recall agreeing to be the responsible one around here.” He tossed an armful of dark clothing to Luke.

Luke chuckled, sliding out of the bunk and pulling on his undershorts. “I like responsible on you.”

Han grumbled wordlessly, hooking a finger through Leia’s panties and tossing them to her. “With a Jedi Knight and an Alliance High Command advisor around, the semi-retired smuggler shouldn't be in the running for most responsible.”

Leia smiled, slipping on the undergarment and locking eyes with Han. He was trying so hard to be well behaved, it made her heart swell. Equal parts pride and admiration.

Han tore his gaze away from hers, glancing around for a moment before grabbing her uniform pants and joining her next to the bunk. He knelt down, positioning the pant legs for her to step into.

It took all of Leia’s restraint to keep from tipping Han backwards and pouncing on him. He was right though, she and Luke were easily distracted by each other lately. But they all still had responsibilities. They’d won a pivotal battle, but not the war. Not yet.

“Hey, Kid”--Han looked past her--“how about you get a start on that mane?”

Luke dreamily mumbled an affirmative, rustling around behind her before his hands were in her hair. He worked out a few insidious tangles by hand, before using the brush. Luke's tugging felt better than it had any right to, the sight of Han smiling up at her was hologram worthy and combined with the affection and devotion pouring off of them it was intoxicating.

Han got to his feet, passing her the rest of her uniform with a wicked grin. “Come on, Sweetheart, you’ve got to help us out a little.”

She knew her cheeks were flushed past the point of decency, but she frowned at him anyhow. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Who, me?” Han laughed, gathering the half of her hair that Luke wasn't diligently braiding. He reached toward Luke, barely having time to prompt for the brush before it was in his grasp.

Leia huffed out a sigh, shrugging on her top, and trying to ignore the similarities between this situation and being a Princess with an occasional handmaiden. Though, she’d certainly never found any of them so infuriating. Or arousing.

She finished buttoning up in a daze. She concentrated on breathing, and forced herself to go over her talking points again. She’d memorized them, but she needed the distraction. Anything to ignore the two men crowded into her space but only touching her hair.

Han reached in front of her, plucking a hairpin from Luke’s mouth, and began coiling his braid around her head.

“You don't have to--”

“We’ve got it,” Han assured, taking another hairpin from Luke.

Leia puffed out another sigh, shutting her eyes until the pushing and pulling and touching was over.

“Perfect,” Luke breathed, resting a hand on her shoulder.

She opened her eyes, Han handed her one boot, which she slipped on while steadying herself on his shoulder, and then the other.

“Respectable enough.” Han chuckled.

Leia didn't take the bait, stepping into the ‘fresher. She examined her reflection, impressed with the work they’d done with her hair. A little more practice and she wouldn't be able to distinguish their handiwork from her own.

Her uniform didn't look too rumpled, her shirt was tucked in and her vest bore its rank insignia, but something was missing.

She stepped out of the ‘fresher, arching an eyebrow as she eyed Luke and Han. Luke was adjusting his belt, lightsaber in place; Han was actually tapping his foot.

“Are we ready?”

Leia cleared her throat, turning to Luke, “Where is my blaster belt?”

Both men glanced around, they seemed genuinely puzzled.

“You planning to kill Ackbar?”

Luke laughed. Leia did not.

“If I were, I wouldn’t need a blaster. Let’s go.”


End file.
